


Worshiping Praise

by AA_S



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Javert tries to pretend he isn't enamored with Madeleine and fails horribly, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-21
Updated: 2013-04-21
Packaged: 2017-12-09 02:25:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/768891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AA_S/pseuds/AA_S
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Javert runs through his head exactly how it was and is that he went past admiring Monsieur Madeleine to becoming completely enamored with him, with limited success of convincing himself otherwise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worshiping Praise

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing for this fandom, so I apologize if the tone or what have you is not up to par in comparison to similar works. I pretty much just put all the different things I liked that Javert had admired of Madeleine in other fics all into one fic with a little bit of actual ship and not just one-sidedness at the end.

Javert was a man of his duty. To listen to his superiors was undisputable. To hold one’s superiors in esteem was understandable; for them to have gotten to their station at all only shows they have admirable qualities that Javert should follow suit.

His logical trails of thought near always flew away when he found himself at Monsieur Le Maire Madeleine’s office though. He felt the need to pray and take the stain of his sins from himself whenever he left. Even in that he had no safety, for when the rosary was pulled from out of his collar all that flew to mind was the mayor’s hand slowly loosing the beaded rosary from his fingertips to trail into Javert’s open palm.

He tried, all hours of the day and his increasing rate of waking nights, to straighten himself out, to reassure himself that he was, and only was, an admirer of the mayor’s hard work and perseverance in the face of adversary. He chastised himself over how indulgent he’d became and how, despite his continued rounds against himself, he still fell again and again to his own traps.

He hadn’t noticed, not at first. When the mayor would go out and traverse through the slums doling out charity, Javert tended to trail behind him, giving a grouse and a glare to any that seemed shifty. It was his responsibility to keep the town safe, and in extension the person who made it run as smoothly as it did.

His reports to the mayor had at first been rather far apart, but Javert had persuaded the mayor that his reports were knowledge that the mayor should keep far closer, and his reports became weekly. He was only doing his duty; if some large criminal activity began riling up and Javert could not get a hold of the mayor sooner, what would commence?

As the two of them began working with one another-- no---as Javert began his time working under the mayor, their familiarity grew, and thus began Javert’s increasing realization to his own sinful feelings.

The mayor began regarding Javert friendlier, not that the man was ever cold; but now he was showered with little touches, a pat on the shoulder, sometimes an undressing of his coat for the mayor to hook, a laugh tracing the mayor’s lips as he turned Javert about, one sleeve then the other. It was a game for the mayor.

The mayor’s innocent playful smirking. And then, Javert had hoped it would stop but no, then the mayor began dropping Javert’s title all together. It had not been any issue to Javert, as he knew the mayor was near to a saint and meant no disregard to him. But with a teasing tongue the mayor went along and said such things as, “My inspector”, “My dear inspector”, and so on. He told him how he wouldn’t want _his_ inspector tired, or hungry, or hurt. If Javert seemed to have acquired any of these the mayor was quick to his side tutting at him good-naturedly all the while.

Javert was no less than dragged away to the mayor’s own home if he was looking to thin, a large meal hefted upon him. He could not refuse, the mayor’s eye on him the entire meal, urging him to eat. Javert did not like being forced to keep this charity, for he knew any other citizen in the town would be given the exact same treatment. This most of all was the most pathetic thought to have struck Javert; he wanted desperately a personalized treatment of him from the mayor, instead of what he could only assume to be the mayor’s overbearing and overflowing generosity.

There was so much more he appreciated of the man than he could or would ever admit to himself. The way the mayor could be so saintly, yet smirk like a fox with a glint in his eye, as if he were daring Javert to take a poke out of line, tempting him with some unknown pleasantry.

The lilt of the mayor’s voice. It was higher than Javert’s own and warbled at times, but was none the less joyous to hear. On those days when Javert was especially tired, the mayor would always notice and tell Javert to close his eyes as he spoke, to rest. He would do as he were commanded and have the still darkness of his closed lids and the mayor’s voice wavering in his ear. Once, the mayor had made Javert jump from his seat, the man’s voice being at the respectable distance behind his desk, only for it to have stopped and with silent footsteps begin again, right against Javert’s ear. He had gone red in the face and the mayor, looking apologetic though he laughed, telling him it was but a jest.

Once even, going to counsel with God at the Church, his intentions had disappeared at the sound of the mayor’s voice. It was not bobbing at its usual level and Javert had been far too curious, wandering deeper into the Church following the man’s voice. When he’d found him Javert had quickly pressed himself firmly against a wall, not wanting to be seen. The mayor was singing lines out of the bible to God. The mayor’s voice lifting in such a way made Javert’s breathe hitch and he’d snuck away embarrassed and much more enamored by the mayor than ever before.

The man haunted his dreams, even occasionally during the day, and of course when he truly saw the man for reports.

“Javert,” His name had been used as a question, though the tone was light.

“Yes, monsieur le Maire?” He responded back automatically. The mayor was quiet for a few moments before continuing.

“What is it you think of me Javert?”

Javert’s lips turned into a thin line. He could not think of why the question was relevant or why he had been asked.

“Monsieur le Maire, you are my superior.” He said this quick and clipped, regretting it immediately afterwards, the mayor having sighed as if resigned.

“I see.” He said back, his tone far too obviously disappointed.

“You are,” Javert started up again, wanting to take back his mistake. The mayor returned to gaze over Javert, waiting. Javert coughed into his glove.

“You are an unmatched leader in this town monsieur. None other but you command such loyalty and respect from your people. You do not rule from fear, but from kindness. Your charitableness is regarded and makes you much beloved.”

Javert was, he knew, stating facts. The mayor’s expression still bore some disappointment, but had lightened up still.

“Thank you Javert.” The mayor could not disguise the fact that he did not fell much thankfulness at all over Javert’s repeating.

Javert wanted to fix it, he did, but all the same his duty, honor-bound, forced him down to not utter a word of his worshipping praise on the mayor. The mayor sighed, nearly inaudible but still lingering none the less, standing from his desk. He rounded it and planted his feet before Javert’s chair.

“That will be all Javert.” The mayor’s words were absolute and commanding. Javert rose, not once looking the mayor in the eye and took steps to retrieve his coat. The mayor pushed past him and grabbed his coat first, putting it out for him to pull on. Javert glowered, not at the mayor but the coat, and reluctantly turned around to put his arms through the sleeves.

Once in the mayor pulled Javert back into an embrace and hot breathe was pressed against Javert’s ear.

“Javert,” The mayor purred, Javert having to repress a perverse sigh at being able to see in his mind’s eye with accuracy the smirk that was no doubt on the mayor’s lips.

“Please,” The mayor’s tone lightened, not reeling back all the way to his high saintly tone, but something more teasing.

“Call me Madeleine.”

Javert’s face was flushed a deep red when the mayor released him, turning him about to face him with a push and pull on his shoulder. The mayor smiled sweetly and gave Javert’s shoulder a few pats.

“Till later, Inspector Javert.”

Javert’s words were caught in his throat and all he could do for a moment was stare at the Cheshire grin that the mayor did not hide at all behind his sweet tooth smile.

“A-as you say, Monsieur,” A quick moment past, Javert having to anticipate the name that had to come out of his mouth from the unspoken order of the mayor.

“Madeleine.” The name was sweet and enticing on his lips and the mayor gave an approving nod and a shake of his head towards the door. Javert followed suit his orders and left, closing the door with a soft click. He walked a fast pace back to his own apartment to lie flat on his bed, still dressed in coat and all. He placed the pillow over his head and pulled at its ends, aggravated noises emanating from under it.

He was no longer God’s. He was fallen now from him, stuck on a sword and engulfed in flames, willingly, by the good saintly mayor Madeleine himself. And Javert had no objections.


End file.
